There are multitudes

of faces, everyone has --


many more than one.

My love smiles at me,

he is good to me, he doesn't --


need to be better.

Tell me your secrets
Tell me your sorrow
All of your regrets
Your dreams of tomorrow
If I asked you to stay
What would you say
Would you tell me right away
Or make it a game we play

I undress voluntarily
The assistants lead me
to the middle

into the half-dark circle
of curious students who
search for the connection

between my bare legs
and the light swell
of my white shirt

I lower my eyes
and follow the instructions
of the professor

as if I see myself
in a film, turning around
in the circle

of light
of attention
of thin voices

If my head is pounding
it must be a Sunday morning.

Or a Monday, or
Tuesday, etc...

Or whatever.

Go elsewhere
I'm not your man
unlike the others
I can't pretend-

to your chorus
my ears I can't lend
leave me as I am
your song I can't chant

Arms should not be used for killing.
Arms should be used for hugging.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS